


You Have Six New Voicemails.

by hexburn (thestormapproaches)



Series: how many idiots does it take to screw each other | LoLRPF [3]
Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alcohol, Angst, Angst and Drama, Angst and Feels, Drunk Texting, M/M, Missing Your Ex, Sort Of, also sort of, implied vaping and drug use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:00:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28964283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestormapproaches/pseuds/hexburn
Summary: You have- six- new voicemails. Press 1 to-"I love you."
Relationships: Nick "LS" De Cesare/Tim "Nemesis" Lipovšek, Oskar "Selfmade" Boderek/Tim "Nemesis" Lipovšek
Series: how many idiots does it take to screw each other | LoLRPF [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1886305
Comments: 1
Kudos: 26





	You Have Six New Voicemails.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scorpia_tiger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpia_tiger/gifts).



“I love you,” says the first voice message. It sounds drunken, slurred, not drowning in alcohol but certainly tipsy.

“I miss you,” says the second. This one is soaked in whisky and cheap vodka; Tim can almost smell it through the phone.

“You know I fucking hate LS, why him,” whines the third. “You’re an asshole, Neme!”

He wishes he could put down the phone, but there’s an obligation almost, to his ex, to listen to his grievances when he never listened before.

“I hate you. You fucking asshole. I hate you. Don’t ever fucking talk to me again. Fuck you.” This message reeks of alcohol, maybe smoke, a hint of the saccharine sweetness in a cloud of flavoured, drugged vapour. Tim doesn’t want to know what his ex is getting up to tonight.

And yet part of him clearly does, as he clicks onto the next voicemail.

“I miss you. Nisqy tries to fuck me sometimes,” the fifth voicemail confides. It sends a rush of jealousy coursing through Tim’s system; that’s not Nisqy’s, that’s his, that’s not for Nisqy to have or hold or even to touch, but-

Tim has no claim, now.

“He’s... he’s not you,” the drunken voice goes on, now so slurred that it’s near-incomprehensible, probably entirely senseless to anyone not used to deciphering late-night murmurs the way Tim is. “I miss you.”

“Call me back sometime.”

He presses the button on his phone that should lead him to the next voice message and finds none.

“Tim, hurry up!” his boyfriend whines from the other room.

Tim has his regrets. He has too many, perhaps, for being so young and so isolated from the world.

But if Oskar is one of them, then Tim can’t let Nick be another, tossed to the wayside in favour of pining over the past.

Tim deletes the messages and goes back to Nick’s side, watching a movie that entrances him with a man who, with a little time and effort, will do the same.

Just a little more time and effort.


End file.
